


Title 23, Section 3305

by SicklyRaven



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: And I'm pretending canon ships don't exist, Canon compliant but no spoilers, Dirty Talk, F/M, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SicklyRaven/pseuds/SicklyRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What do you know about Layla?" Connor asks, frowning. He doesn't look so smug anymore, and Asher counts it as a win.<br/>Even though, of course, it means that Connor knows about Layla, which means they've been following the same lead, which means Connor's gonna try and get all the juicy info before Asher. Try being the operative word – no way is Asher letting that happen.</p><p>Asher has no plan, Connor has the worst plan ever, Layla doesn't even know why they need a plan in the first place. Everybody gets what they wished for and then some.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Title 23, Section 3305

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short fun drabble about Cosher being competitive idiots secretly into each other and turned into 7000 words of porn instead. I apologize for my weakness.

It's that hour of the evening when clubs and bars stop being just crowded and get totally jam-packed with people looking to hang out with friends, hook up with a stranger or get hammered. Or in most cases, all three. Smith's Pub is no exception. The second Asher enters the place – pretty plain but nice all in all, with red walls and black tables, a few prints of old commercials hanging from the walls and a bull's eye to play darts in a corner – a dozen or so people follow right after him. Still, he's sure the hot chick behind the bar who's mixing drinks with mad skill smiled at him and him only.

Not that it matters. Asher isn't here to have fun tonight – tonight, he's all about business.

They've been busy with a case that has the weakest players in the team sprouting ulcers and cursing in languages unknown to men. Asher is too awesome for any of that, of course, but he has to admit this is a tough one to crack. They're supposed to save the ass of some dude who was literally found covered in his girlfriend's blood. Now, Asher took one quick look at the client, with his pornstache and crazy eyes and little tight-lipped smile, and decided he'd definitely done it. Even the others agreed with him for once – whether that's because the dude's so creepy that even they couldn't make up excuses for him or because they've finally realized that Asher is right most of the time (or at least pretty often. He's right more than he's wrong, anyway, he thinks), Asher couldn't say.

It doesn't matter either way, because Annalise decided they were gonna take the case and they were gonna win it and she wouldn't have any of their complaints. At first Asher thought it was a total pain, but he's gotta admit things worked out pretty well for him – he's going to look even cooler when he solves the toughest case they've ever had. And he is going to solve it, because contrary to what all those losers seem to think he's actually great at this job. So great, in fact, that he managed to get a winning lead, something that's going to prove once and for all that he's the best student Annalise has. Possibly the best she's _ever_ had.

It took almost a week of tough detective work, but Asher found out that the client's girlfriend went to this same pub the night she was murdered and that she told her friends about a potential stalker. Unfortunately, the girl Asher talked to said she left pretty early because she had an early morning and she thought her friend was being paranoid anyway; luckily, she also said a Layla who works at the pub can probably tell him more about that night.

So all Asher has to do to win the case is find out who this Layla chick is, and he's sure the cute bartender who smiled at him when he entered the pub can help him out.

"You've got to be kidding me!" A voice Asher knows all too well stops him before he can get to the bar. He turns and there he is, sure as a mean hangover after a night of debauchery: Connor friggin' Walsh, sitting all alone in one of the booths – which in itself is enough to make Asher suspicious. "What are you doing here?" Connor asks, sounding more surprised than annoyed.

"I could ask you the same question," Asher retorts. "What, you following me around in the hopes to steal some good lead?"

Connor snorts, mocking. "Trust me, I'll drop out of Annalise's course before it comes to that. I still have some dignity."

"You literally sold your ass to impress her," Asher feels compelled to point out.

"Not literally, actually, but yeah," Connor says, and raises an eyebrow. "Your point being?"

Jerk. He can play it cool all he wants, Asher knows he's secretly jealous of him. Or at least he will be, once Asher brings them the intel that solves the case.

He slides into Connor's booth, occupying the black leather seat in front of him. "Fine. Just tell me this one thing: are you here because of Layla?"

"What do you know about Layla?" Connor asks, frowning. He doesn't look so smug anymore, and Asher counts it as a win.

Even though, of course, it means that Connor knows about Layla, which means they've been following the same lead, which means Connor's gonna try and get all the juicy info before Asher. Try being the operative word – no way is Asher letting that happen.

"I know she's our ticket to winning this case, and you're not stealing it from me."

Connor smirks, the cocky asshole. "Is that a challenge?"

Before Asher can tell him where to stick it, the cute bartender who caught his eye earlier materializes next to their table. The closer look allows him to notice her dark lipstick, the glint of her nose piercing – something Asher's not usually into, but that looks pretty damn hot on her – and the small blue lizard tattooed right below her left ear. Asher freezes. He's heard about a tattoo like that before. From the girl who pointed him to Layla's direction. So... the sexy bartender is Layla?

"Welcome to Smith's, guys, what can I get you?" she asks.

Now, no matter what the others say Asher can be smooth, like, 99.9% of the times. He's like Bond – better than Bond, actually, because all the times he's saved the day he's done it with no help from cool guns and even cooler gadgets. So he thinks it would be unfair for anyone to make a big deal about that 0.1% when he can't recover quickly enough and ends up blurting out dumb answers like: "How about your number?" 

Connor makes a weird noise that sounds too much like laughter for Asher's taste. Layla, thank god, doesn't suck as much as him. "I'm afraid you can only order off the menu," she says, and she's amused, but not in a mean way. She even sounds a little sorry. Maybe not all hope is lost.

"Sure. Sorry. I'll have a, uh..." Asher gives the drink list a quick scan. "A tequila, thanks."

"Just a beer for me, thank you," Connor adds.

Layla gives them a quick nod – "Right away" – and she's off.

Asher follows her with his eyes, watching her take her place behind the bar and start mixing drinks. He wonders how long it's going to be before Connor makes some snarky comment about what happened.

Unfortunately, he doesn't have to wonder for long.

"So how does that pick-up line work, exactly?" Connor asks, looking like he's having the time of his life. "Do you usually hypnotize them first? Or do you just hope they have been so conditioned to do what the client wants that they'll give you their number just because you ask?"

"Screw you," Asher retorts, which admittedly is not the most original comeback but still works fine for the occasion. "You don't get to steal my lead and then make fun of my plan."

"Oh, so this was part of a plan! I take it all back then. It's actually pretty smart, coming up with a plan that starts with you humiliating yourself. One should always play to their strengths."

"Fine, let's hear it from the genius. Do _you_ have a plan or did you just follow me here to make lame comments?"

" _Follow you here_? In case you didn't notice, I got here first."

"Who cares. You have to call dibs or it means nothing." Asher frowns. "Dibs on Layla!" he calls before Connor has a chance to.

"Are you two fighting over me?!"

Yeah, so, probably not the brightest idea. Layla got to the booth with their drinks and she heard Asher and now she's looking at him like he's a particularly nasty piece of chewing-gum that got stuck under her shoe.

"No, of course not!" he denies in a rush. "It's just, you know... I was just..."

"Because that's actually very flattering," Layla interrupts his stuttering, and she smiles and winks at him. Then, as Asher is still recovering from the surprise and she's setting the two drinks on the table, she adds: "I just don't know how I could possibly choose between the two of you."

Asher feels a smile starting to spread on his face. About damn time luck decided to help him out, total awesomeness alone can only get you so far. "That shouldn't be a problem, actually. See, my man Connor here, he's..."

"Obviously the superior choice?" Connor cuts him off. "Why, thanks for saying that. It's very mature of you to concede defeat without making a fuss."

Asher's so shocked at the turn of events that he forgets to protest. Really? Is Connor _really_ trying to hook up with a girl? Why? Then it dawns on him. Of course. The sneaky jerk will stop at nothing to steal Asher his well-deserved fame and gratitude. Even if it means seducing Layla just so he can get to her before Asher and leave her alone with her bluewalls once he has the information he needs.

The worst part is, Asher could rat him out easy but he doubts Layla would stick around if he did. Just because she's been super cool up to this point, it doesn't mean she'll take the chance to be at the center of some weird gay bet. Besides, she only started showing real interest when she thought they were fighting over her, so maybe Connor is unknowingly helping Asher out with his stunt? All Asher has to do is get Layla to choose him, and he can win the case for Annalise and maybe even get Layla to agree to go out with him for real.

Piece of cake. Connor might be dude catnip, but the ladies are still Asher's territory.

"I was about to say 'an arrogant poser not worth a respectable lady's time', so thank _you_ for proving me right," Asher says, and he's pretty proud of his comeback.

At least until Layla quirks an eyebrow and asks: "And what makes you think I'm a _respectable lady_?"

There's a chance she's teasing him – she doesn't exactly look offended, after all – but with the way she spits out the last two words Asher isn't sure. Not for the first time, he finds himself wishing he was better at reading girls. And people in general, to be honest.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and he knows he should stop at that instead of risking making things worse but for some reason he finds himself adding: "I just didn't think it'd be fair, applying some kind of bad girl stereotype on you based only on the way you look. And Connor really is the worst. A love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy, you know? Everyone deserves better than that."

Connor just shrugs at the comment, almost as if to say, _to each his own_.

Layla looks at him like he's crazy for a few seconds, and then laughs. "Listen up, cutie. I honestly don't think anyone who gets into a squabble with his friend over who 'has dibs' on a girl qualifies as boyfriend material, do you?" She doesn't wait for Asher's two cents. "Of course you don't. You _gotta_ be smarter than that. But I'd like to have some fun when this hell of a shift's finally over and I do think either of you could make for a good one-night stand. So. Think you can tone it down on the Prince Charming act and make me hot and bothered instead?"

Asher swallows. God is this girl weird. Good thing he likes them crazy. "Yes ma'am."

"Good boy." She throws a look in the direction of the bar and sighs. "Gotta go, customers to serve. You work on your resumés" she adds, almost threateningly, and leaves.

Asher sinks back in his seat. "Holy mother of holiness."

"You're actually into her?" Connor inquires, sounding perplexed.

"Oh yes."

Connor takes a sip of his drink. "She'll eat you alive."

"Probably. And she'll make me like it," Asher agrees.

Connor chuckles in spite of himself, and for a moment Asher wishes things were different. That he and Connor were actual friends, spending so much time together because they enjoy each other's company and not just because they're forced to by their dreadful working hours. That they both came to this pub because they wanted to hang out and relax, not because they're competing over a lead in a gruesome murder case. That Connor were here as Asher's wingman instead of being trying to seduce Layla away from him to impress their boss.

On a limb, Asher pleads: "Look, forget about the case. I really want a chance with her. Can't you just let me have this one?"

Connor seems to think about it for a split second before he shakes his head. "Sorry, not happening. It took me a week to get to Layla, you're not taking this victory away from me." He takes one more sip of his beer before adding: "Look on the bright side, at least this way when you screw it up you can say it was because you didn't stand a chance against me and not because you're completely useless."

Oh well. That kind of life would probably get old quick anyway.

"Fine, let's play it your way," Asher says, picking up his drink and moving away from the booth.

Layla is busy with a long line of patrons shouting their orders, but she can't hide a pleased little smile when she sees Asher take a seat at the bar. He smiles back. However this ends, at least he can say he brought Layla some excitement on a tough day of bartending.

Hold it, why's he talking like he's already lost this? He really needs to get a grip. Who the hell does Connor think he is to do better than him, anyway? Granted, the guy looks like some Renaissance artist sculpted him out of the purest marble he could find on the mountain of the gods or something, but at the end of the day he remains totally gay. No way he's that good an actor to fool Layla into thinking otherwise. Asher knows if it were the other way round he'd never pass as gay, and he's a much better undercover agent than Connor.

So screw him. Asher is gonna crush this.

"What happened to your friend?" Layla asks in mock concern, moving closer to Asher. She's taken care of the thirsty masses way quicker than Asher thought possible. He considers telling her that, but she asked for sexy stuff and that's not very sexy.

Damn it, Connor is going to be so much better than him at this.

"Dunno." Asher shrugs. "Why, do you care?"

"I think the two of you are more fun together, is all," she says, and all Asher can think is: _Oh god please please please tell me you're not talking threeway_. It's just his twisted luck that the one time he finds a girl who's into threesomes she wants to have one with Connor instead of, I don't know, her model friend who's crashing on her couch for a few nights.

He takes a deep breath, tries to push the thought of how Connor would react to the proposal as far from his mind as possible. (He'd totally smirk and say _why not_ and laugh at Asher's horrified reaction. He's _that_ big a jerk.) "That's not fair. Shouldn't you give me a chance to show you how fun I can be without him around before you decide?"

"Well here's your chance," she says spreading her arms, a grin on her dark lips. "Hit me with your best shot. What you gonna do to me when we're out of here?"

Asher takes a nervous gulp of his tequila. Connor would be so, so much better than him at this. It's not that Asher doesn't enjoy dirty talk. On the contrary – it's a weakness that past girlfriends have used against him time and time again. But he needs to be really fucking turned on before he can start saying shit like that without feeling lame or a creep, and as gorgeous as Layla is he's not there yet. The fact that they're out in public, where anyone coming to the bar to get a drink might hear him, isn't doing anything to make him feel more at ease. Nor is Layla's expectant and slightly bored look.

"I'm uh... I'm going to..."

No way. He can't. He's not like Connor, he's not a soulless sex machine ready to turn his feelings on and off whenever it suits him. And honestly, Layla is super friggin' hot but what else does Asher know about her? That she can help him win a tough case? That she's a pretty sick bartender? That's not enough. He can have sex with a person he doesn't love, of course he can, but there has to be _something_. A shared laugh, a common interest, a mutual understanding. Some sort of connection. Too bad Layla has made it very clear she doesn't want that, and what she wants, Asher doesn't think he can give her.

Neither can Connor, but like Asher said – soulless. "Want to know what _I_ want to do?" he jumps in, taking advantage of Asher's hesitation. The bastard. Asher didn't even notice him coming to the bar, but he must have been here a while to know exactly what's going on. "I'm not going to waste any time chatting you up, because I've seen the way you look at me. I know you've been wanting me since I walked through that door. So the second everyone else is out, I'm going to jump over this counter and kiss the fucking hell out of you."

And then something really weird happens. Connor turns away from Layla, looking at Asher instead as he carries on: "I'm going to lift you up, sit you on the bar with your legs around my waist so you can feel how hard I am for you. How much harder I get by the second." He licks his lips and turns his attention back to Layla, but from then on his eyes never stop flickering to Asher. Usually when he says the dirtiest shit. "I'm going to trace the curve of your jawline with my mouth, all the way up to your ear, and stick my tongue in it. Leave marks on your neck that will remind you for days of how hot I made you."

What. The. Fuck. What is Connor playing at? Is he... god, is he picturing doing those things to Asher instead of Layla because it's easier for him? That is just so messed up. He just wishes Little Asher were smart enough to agree.

Because whatever Connor's sick plan is, for some reason it seems to be working. With Annalise making them into her personal slaves (and not in a sexy way) and all, it's been a while since Asher has gotten any. And Connor... Look, Asher isn't gay. At all. He loves the ladies, and he's never had trouble with them. But there's always been something about Connor – he's always felt drawn to him for some reason. And listening to him saying those sexy things, Asher is finally, reluctantly figuring out what it is.

Anyway, Asher has bigger problems than a half-broner right now. Namely, the fact that Layla is looking at Connor like she wants him to bend her over and take her right here on the counter, no matter who sees them – which would include a couple dozens half-drunk patrons and Asher. Who really didn't need to picture that on top of everything else.

The one good thing to come out of this whole trippy experience? Asher finally feels ready to talk dirty too. "I'm gonna unbutton your shirt," he says, and the way both Connor and Layla turn to him with eyes wide in surprise is straight out of slapstick. "Quick and rough, because I can't wait to get to what's under and I know you can't wait either. I'm going to mouth at one of your nipples and roll the other one between my fingers, get those nubs nice and hard."

Layla is biting her lip, eyes dark with lust. Asher feels awesome. He gives Connor a smug look, raised eyebrows and all, and finds him half-smiling at him, like he didn't expect Asher to rise to the challenge. Like the fun is finally beginning.

"Then I'm going to blow on your wet nipple, make your whole body tremble with pleasure," Connor picks up where Asher left off, and damn is he good. Asher shifts in his seat. "I'm going to kiss a line all the way down your chest, your belly, until I get to the zipper of your tight jeans."

"I'm going to open it with my teeth," Asher says, slow and careful, trying not to think about the fact that the only time he tried that little trick he almost tore off his own tongue. "And take your pants off."

"And then I'll bend you over the bar and start rimming you."

"Fuck," Asher can't help breathing out, because he did not expect Connor to go there.

Connor, on his part, isn't even pretending to be talking to Layla anymore. "I'll start slow, let you get adjusted to the feeling of my tongue up your ass first. How different it is from what you're used to. How arousing. You'll think it's weird at first, but before long you'll be begging me to go harder. And I will."

And that's it, Asher's out.

"Excuse me for a second," he mumbles, taking a dive for the restroom. His cheeks are burning, his eyes are more watery than that time he tried to drink a full shot of tabasco on a dare, and he has never hated anyone as much as he hates Connor Walsh. 

He can't believe the dude. Trying to get to the only possible witness they might have for the case before him is one thing, but did he have to take it so far? Of course he did, because Connor has no limits, no moral compass whatsoever, and he'll do whatever to win. Worst part is, he's probably gonna make a better lawyer than Asher because of it. More like Annalise. And Asher will keep hanging on the sidelines, trying to be a decent guy and being accused of only getting ahead because of his father in the meantime.

Ugh, okay, it's just the perfect conclusion to a messed-up evening that Asher is thinking about his dad seconds after he popped a gay boner in front of a whole pub.

He washes his face at the sink, trying to cool down, but he knows he needs more than that. If he wants to get rid of this thing, he needs a cold shower, and he's not getting one in here for sure. No way he's going back to the pub and risk getting caught by Connor as he shame-walks all the way to the first taxi that'll take him home, though.

There is one other thing he could do, and as mortifying as it is Asher's wound up too tight to go looking for better solutions now. So he rushes to the nearest stall, locks himself in and unzips his pants.

He's just taken hold of himself when he hears the restroom door open, and someone's steps on the dirty wet tiles, and Connor's voice: "Asher? You okay?"

 _Shit_ , Asher thinks, struggling to hide his raging boner back into his pants. He's tempted to stay silent, wait 'til Connor gives up and leaves, but he knows it's hopeless. Connor saw him get in, Connor didn't see him get out, Connor knows he's definitely still here.

"Yeah," Asher confirms, and doesn't know what else to say.

That's okay though. As usual, Connor has plenty to say for the both of them. "Shame you left like that, you missed most of the fun. Especially when I explained to Layla why we were really here and she told me all she knows about Ms Allen's stalker – name and address included. You were right, she _was_ our ticket to winning the case. Annalise is going to be happy with me."

Asher wants to scream. He can't believe his much anticipated triumph was stolen from him, and by Connor of all people. That's not even the worst part, though. The worst part is that right now, he doesn't give a dead rat's ass about the stupid case.

He opens the door of the stall and comes face to face with Connor. He must look as bad as he feels, because Connor's ever-present smug expression falters at the sight of him and he asks: "Hey, are you okay? What's going on?"

And it's dumb, Asher knows it, it's dumb and desperate, but Connor is looking at him like he's a human being for once, like they both are, and Asher wants him so bad that it's enough, that's all the connection he needs. "I want you to do it," he confesses, his voice shaky. "All those things you said before. I want you to do them to me." 

Connor smirks, and for a terrifying moment Asher thinks he's put the final nail in his own coffin. That Connor is going to laugh in his face, tell him something snarky and soul-crashing, and leave him here alone with his hard-on like a total loser. That he won't be able to show up at work for the rest of his days without everyone laughing at how much of a fool he's made of himself behind his back.

What Connor says is: "Really, _all_ those things? I think these guys would like to close at some point."

Asher's breath rushes out all at once and he almost finds himself laughing, all of his tension turning into relief and something very close to giddiness. "Fine, just pick a few then."

Connor takes a step closer to him, puts a hand on the back of his neck. Asher shivers. He hopes Connor didn't notice, his ego is already big enough without Asher admitting that the slightest touch from him is enough to send all of his nerve-endings into overload. "Are you sure about this?" Connor inquires. "Because I'm not planning on ending the night holding your hand after you have a panic attack."

Unpleasant as usual, but that, Asher realizes, was Connor's way to give him an out. Or at least some time to think it over. It's nice and all, but Asher's already wasted too much time thinking about it. Right now, all he knows for sure is that he's more turned on than he's ever been and he really _really_ needs to get laid. And Connor's here and he's offering to do it and for some weird crazy reason, Asher wouldn't want anybody else to take his place. Is he going to regret it and feel like crap later? Maybe. Does he care? Not at all.

He's tired of doubting and he's tired of talking. So he gathers all his courage, and closes the distance between the two of them.

Connor's eyebrows shoot up – he definitely wasn't expecting the straight guy to take the lead. That'll teach him not to underestimate Asher friggin' Millstone and his boldness. At least he doesn't move away, though. On the contrary, his grip on Asher's neck tightens and he parts his lips easily, letting Asher do all the exploring he needs.

And god, does Asher enjoy it. He always thought kissing another dude would be icky because beards are gross, and while he stands by his conviction he has to admit that stubble kinda works for him. It feels different from making out with a girl, of course, but not as much as he feared – just enough to make it exciting.

"How's that for a panic attack?" he asks after a while, smug.

Connor frowns. Damn, Asher should have used that comeback earlier. It would have worked a billion times better if he hadn't gotten caught up in it and waited too long to speak.

"You know, because you said I'd have one?" he explains.

"You still got time," Connor counters, and leans in for a second round of kissing at the same time as he starts unbuttoning his own shirt.

Asher's mouth dries up in a second. Because this is when the reality of it hits him. This isn't just kissing some dude during a drunken game of spin the bottle and then going home with a hot sorority girl, this is real actual sex. With a guy he legit made out with and who is now undressing in front of him. Who is going to touch him, and expects Asher to do the same. But Asher...

"Panicking yet?"

"A little."

"Do you want to stop?"

"God, no."

You know what? Asher is up for it.

Connor's shirt is hanging open and loose on his shoulders. Asher takes it all the way off, wanting to see as much of his skin as possible. To feel his shoulder blades beneath his hands. He does exactly that – he stands in front of Connor, drinking in the sight of him in only a pair of dark low-cut jeans and letting his hands wander, as careful as they are curious, all over his chest, his hips, his back.

Connor, bless him, lets him do his thing without complaining or making snarky...

"You know, you should have told me you have Stendhal syndrome. I never would have exposed you to _this_ if I'd known."

Okay, no snarky comments would have been too good to be true.

"Shut up," Asher says, playfully pinching Connor's nipple.

Apparently it's enough to give Connor goosebumps. That would explain why he got so chirpy earlier when Asher started talking about nipple play.

Feeling reckless, Asher sucks on his own thumb and then starts moving it in circles around Connor's nipple. "You like this, huh?" he asks.

"Yeah. Yeah I do," Connor admits. He instinctively leans into the touch. "Fuck. Don't stop."

Asher grins, feeling very powerful all of a sudden. "Wasn't planning on it."

Connor seizes his mouth then, and Asher is happy to let him claim that much control back. Especially since Connor seems to be as into it as Asher is, finally. It's like Asher passed the gay test or something and now Connor can stop being slow and careful around him.

Good thing too, because if slow-and-careful Connor was incredible, spontaneous-hungry-for-it Connor is the best thing that ever happened to Asher. And that includes that time he ran into Diplo on the subway and he totally gave Asher a nod. Asher has been with his fair share of kickass girls, but none of them has taken him apart so completely so fast.

"Do you hook up in places like this a lot?" Asher asks a little later, more to check if he's still capable of speech than anything.

"You," Connor replies between kisses, "choose very strange things to talk about during foreplay."

"Jackass," Asher huffs. Connor's mouth finds that particularly sensitive spot at the base of his neck then, and for a while Asher forgets what he was going to say next. "I'm just worried about logistics," he finally explains, fighting hard to keep his focus. "This thing is tiny."

"Don't worry, it'll do fine. You're not the first guy to lose his virginity in a bathroom stall."

"You know, just because I don't sleep with a different person every night it doesn't mean I'm a virgin," Asher objects. He's had it with Connor acting like he's so much better at this than him. Even though he's ready to take it all back and worship at the altar of Connor Walsh, Almighty God of Male Orgasms, if it means Connor will keep tongue-fucking his ear like he is now.

"You're not? Are you sure?" Connor asks, not mocking him for once, and Asher feels a finger tease the crack of his ass.

Oh. _Oh_. So that's what Connor meant. Asher shivers, half desire, half fear.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that," he confesses.

"Yeah, thought so. Shame," Connor says, but doesn't pressure him further. "Turn around."

"What are you..."

A quick kiss shuts him up. "Nothing you won't like, promise," Connor reassures him, pulling back. "Turn around."

Asher complies, breath shaky with want and nervousness. He can't believe this is happening. Mostly, he can't believe he wants it to happen so bad. It's been ages since a random hookup has made him feel like this – completely lost, and not wanting to be found. He wonders whether it's because the hookup in question is Connor, his first dude, or because it's Connor, infuriating classmate he hasn't been able to get out of his head for months. Or a combination of the two.

Then Connor's kissing his neck again, and his hands are slowly unbuttoning Asher's pants and sliding them down his legs, and Asher decides the soul-searching can wait. After all he doubts he can do any decent soul-searching in a tiny bathroom stall, ass in the air and Connor's tongue... _shit_ , Connor's tongue teasing his entrance.

"Connor, fuck," he breathes out, and he has to grab the walls of the stall for support. This is getting way too much for his poor legs.

Connor's tongue is wet and warm and relentless, pushing against Asher's hole like it owns it, picking up speed all of a sudden to trace circles and spirals that reduce Asher to a breathless, whimpering mess and then slowing down again, making him whine and push his ass back, begging for more contact, because even though Asher said he wasn't ready (and he isn't, if he were able to have one coherent thought he'd still say he isn't) he wants more, bigger, faster. He can't help picturing Connor's dick moving in and out of him instead of just his tongue, and fuck, he wants to touch himself so bad because the image makes him so hot that he feels like he could explode but he doesn't, he can't, he doubts he's ever getting another round with Connor so this has to last as long as possible, he can't come before Connor says they're done. 

And that's when Connor decides that his tongue alone isn't doing enough damage, and spreads Asher's cheeks to get better access to him with his whole mouth. The first scrape of teeth right above his asshole sends a jolt of pleasure all throughout Asher's body, so intense that it's almost painful.

"Con-Connor... shit... Connor wait, I can't, I'm gonna come," Asher whines, moving away. Or at least trying to – his legs aren't really cooperating, and he isn't sure he wants to go anywhere anyway.

Connor huffs, amused, his hot breath against Asher's hole getting a shiver out of him. "I thought that was the idea."

"But what about you?"

That was probably the wrong thing to say, because it gets Connor to stand, pulling Asher's pants back on as he does. He isn't looking at Asher directly, but something in his eyes makes Asher suspect that he doesn't get the question very often. Maybe the unattached wanderer's life isn't as awesome as Connor makes it out to be after all.

"What is it?" Asher investigates, hoping real hard that he won't regret it.

"Nothing. It's just..." Connor shakes his head and finally meets Asher's eyes, a hint of challenge in the firm line of his jaw. "Well, honestly you're the last person I expected to ask me that."

Asher makes a face. "Because I'm a spoilt douche-face only interested in what _I_ need?"

"Exactly," Connor says, and kisses him. Asher decides he can let it slide this time.

Making out with Connor feels amazeballs, but Asher's way past the point where it's enough. So it's not long before he says: "Fuck. I need to come, Connor, I'm going crazy. I need... I need you to touch me."

Connor quirks an eyebrow, teasing. "Make up your mind already."

"Well I never said I didn't want to get off," Asher complains. He'd feel bad about sounding so cranky if it wasn't totally Connor's fault that he's so frustrated. "Just that I don't want you to have to take care of yourself on your own. So... You can jerk me off and I can jerk you off?"

One more kiss, and then Connor moves so that he's behind Asher again. "That sounds great, but I have a better idea."

Asher barely has time to register the sound of a zipper being opened before Connor's pressing against him from behind with his whole body – chest to back, hand sneaking around his torso to finally _finally_ start stroking Asher's cock, boner pressing against the crack of his ass.

"Oh god, oh god, _yes_ ," Asher groans, so far gone and not even caring. He turns his head so that he can get at Connor's face, and feels a little proud when he gets him to moan, loud and unrestrained, by scraping his teeth against the spot right below his ear.

He also feels more turned on than he's ever been, and he knows he's not going to last much longer – not with Connor's fingers curling around the length of his dick, his hot breath against Asher's neck and the steady rub of his hard-on against the back of Asher's jeans, not quite the same as skin-on-skin contact but so close and eager that it's easy to forget the difference. And god does Asher want to. He wants Connor to fill him up, ride him hard and fast until he comes deep inside him.

He tells Connor as much, and gets a frustrated groan in return. "Don't think either of us will last long enough at this point."

"I know," Asher admits, resting his head on Connor's shoulder and closing his eyes. He's fighting as hard as he can not to go limp against him. "Some other time. Will you?"

It's a while before Connor says, slowly: "Yeah. Yeah, why not?"

And maybe it's because he knows this isn't the only chance he's ever going to get with Connor, or because Connor has started painting circles up and down the length of Asher's dick and it feels So. Damn. _Good_ , but that's when Asher comes, with a little cry and all over Connor' hand. He doesn't even have time to recover before Connor is following suit, moving desperately against Asher and biting down on the shoulder of his shirt to keep quiet.

They both lean against the other for support then, and they almost topple over. They probably would if the stall weren't so small that there isn't even any room to fall down properly. Though Asher should probably stop complaining about the poor thing. After all, he's just had some real quality sex in it.

Laughing, feeling light-headed with more than just arousal, they pull themselves upright again. There's something unguarded in Connor's eyes, his usual mask of superiority finally down for more than a split second, and Asher can't resist kissing him again.

"Don't tell me you're up for another round already," Connor quips when the kiss starts turning into a long one.

"I wish," Asher sighs, and finally steps back. "Thank you. It was awesome."

Connor seems uncomfortable all of a sudden, like even something as simple as Asher thanking him is too touchy-feely for him. Whatever. Dude has a crapload of issues, but it's not like Asher can do anything about them.

It's only after they've cleaned up as best as they can and they're about to go back to the real world that Connor finds his voice again. He steps in the way before Asher can open the restroom door and says: "I almost forgot, I have a gift for you. Think of it as a thank you for making it so easy for me to steal the case from you," he adds with a wink.

Asher is still debating whether to tell him that what they just did more than made up for it or to flip them both off, Connor and his stupid need to act like a jerk at all times, when Connor opens the door, giving him a view of the pub. The place is still crawling with people, but Layla's shift must be over because she is ignoring the line at the bar, leaning against the counter and looking at her cellphone instead.

"She's done for the day," Connor confirms Asher's suspicion. "And she deserves some fun, doesn't she? Now, she isn't my type but I'm sure you can find a way to entertain her."

Asher just stands there, not knowing what to say. Mostly, he's wondering whether Connor is the best or the worst wingman ever. "Why didn't you tell me before we..." he finally mumbles.

Connor looks at him sideways. "Did you really want to tell her that you got a hard-on thinking about me?"

"Okay, I guess not," Asher admits.

"See, you should thank me." Connor lowers his voice then, and adds: "And honestly, I wanted to get off as well."

It takes Asher a second to figure out the implications of it. Connor got turned on thinking about the two of them together too. Connor didn't want Asher to leave him for Layla. Connor is totally into him.

Asher finds himself smiling.

"Oh, don't do that," Connor grumbles. "Just go."

"Fine, fine, I'm going," Asher says, starting to walk in Layla's direction. That was probably more sharing than Connor has done in the last ten years, and Asher knows it's better if he doesn't push him. He can't resist turning to Connor one last time, though, and pointing a victorious finger at him: "But you and I, sir, are not done!"

Connor shakes his head, and Asher decides to leave him be. Besides, there's a lady who needs his attention right now. Seeing her light up even from a distance at the sight of Asher feels pretty good.

So... the night didn't go exactly as planned, but that doesn't mean it was any less epic. Asher has never scored twice in the same night, and with such hot people to boot. He just hopes Connor left him with enough energy to take care of Layla, he's gonna feel awful if he ends up falling asleep on her.

Maybe a threeway wouldn't have been such a terrible idea after all.


End file.
